


For me, as much as you

by keynessexdiary (2Hummingbirds)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Nonbinary Character, Other, Pegging, Trans Character, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:28:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24342085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Hummingbirds/pseuds/keynessexdiary
Summary: Ingrid pegs Sylvain as they embark on their life as married partners. Not husband and wife. Partners.
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	For me, as much as you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ethereally](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereally/gifts).



> Happy birthday. The original ask for this was sweet wedding night sex where Ingrid is pegging Sylvain, but then I turned it into a fic of More And More Gender. It's deeply, inextricably gender now. How did this happen. Not even you, my friend, who asked for this, asked for _this._ And I think that's why I wrote it. And why it felt good to write. And I didn't plan it as a gift but it's here now. Thank you for everything.

When he explained it afterward, Sylvain said, "You looked radiant. Divine. No I'm serious, like the mural of the Goddess on the ceiling of Garreg Mach, only better because your breasts were out." (Ingrid huffed, and he had to add, hastily, "And because it's you!")

And that is why, when Ingrid turned around, Sylvain was sprawled on the bed, clad only in his white drawers now tented around his obvious arousal, slack-jawed. Ingrid had only unbuttoned the jacket and pulled it open, and not even all the way. Sylvain insisted that this was even sexier - to have the rest of the body not only hidden, but _decorated_ by the immaculate ceremonial white of the garland and veil, the pants (an unorthodox choice) and Ingrid's grandmother's feather cloak (extremely orthodox). The outfit became a frame for the window of pink where Ingrid's breasts spilled into the air, nipples going hard. He could have cried. Ingrid peeled the jacket the rest of the way off and started to undo the slacks.

Sylvain asked from the bed, "Can you leave the cloak on?"

"What? This is a family heirloom, Sylvain, I'm not getting it dirty." Five generations of Galatea brides had been wed in this cape, and also Ingrid, who was not-a-bride, but was half done up like one and would hang on to the cloak for a daughter or a niece.

"Aw, come on, I bet at least a few of your ancestors did it with the cloak on-"

Ingrid made an angry screech, clambering up the bed to smack a hand over his mouth.

"That's disgusting! I don't want to think about that! Why would you verbalize that, _Sylvain,_ you cant keep your mouth shut for me on our _wedding night?_ "

"You can't let me run my mouth on our wedding night?" he countered. Ingrid sighed and leaned back. Sylvain had been in the process of pulling his smallclothes off, and continued to roll them down his ass.

"Anyway, your gift isn't me not making sex jokes on our wedding night, your gift is that no one else commented on our sex life at any point on our wedding night. I think Ashe may have threatened Claude. You're welcome."

Ingrid, pouting, considered this as Sylvain shed his drawers. It was true; the whole reception downstairs, no one had nudged either of them with an elbow or given them a wink. Not even out of earshot of Ashe's young siblings, or after they'd been packed away, when there were only adults left. This was only polite, but, Ingrid conceded, something of a miracle given Sylvain's reputation.

(They wouldn't learn it, but Annette had been the one to entreat Claude. "It's hard enough for Ingrid being treated like a girl all of the time," she said. "I'm serious. How would you feel if you had to think about your own body?" And Claude, who did not know them that well, but had the sensible human amount of empathy, in spite of his inclination to ribald humor, had shuddered and agreed.)

Ingrid was fine with the having of sex, if they got to keep it to themselves. Ingrid was even okay with their wedding night being sexy, as long as it was only for the two of them. Case in point-

Sylvain's eyes bulged. "You had that on? All day?"

"Mmm. Well, it's not like it was attached to the harness."

"The fact that you had that in there instead of the soft packer - seriously, Ingrid, you're going to be the death of me. How were you not known as the pervert between the two of us all these years?"

Ingrid fixed the strap-on in place as he babbled. "Because this is only for you, Sylvain. Look..."

The pants and cloak were fully discarded now, and the strap-on jutted out in a mirror to Sylvain's flushed and twitching cock. (Ingrid, upon revealing it for the first time, had said, "Look. Since your lance is bigger and bumpier than mine, my cock gets to be bigger and bumpier than yours. Now kneel, and let me see you suck.")

Ingrid got on hands and knees and crawled up the bed to pull Sylvain into a kiss. Their mouths slid together. Sylvain angled his head and made a soft noise. He could feel Ingrid's chest getting hot, heart speeding up. Ingrid dug the fingers on both hands into each of Sylvain's ass cheeks.

"You're so good to grab."

_"Ahh"_

"I mean it, Sylvain," Ingrid whispered into his mouth.

"Spread me-"

_"Yes."_

Sylvain had already gripped the headboard. His body was arched out, everything begging to be touched. Ingrid could feel the press of their chests together, heightened tactile awareness, the drag of his hair over sensitive nipples. Ingrid licked his throat - one broad flat stroke of the tongue. Sylvain hissed as Ingrid kneaded fingers into the meat of his upper thighs. Over and over, their mouths met. Smudged. Heated. Still framed by that beautiful veil and white garland.

Would Sylvain ever have the foresight to take his hands off the headboard and unpin it from Ingrid's hair? It wasn't as though he needed to. It made such a lovely backdrop, and besides, it likely wouldn't even get crushed. They could easily go the whole night with Ingrid on top.

"Want- inside."

"Mmhf."

"Put it in me," he said again.

"Get the oil," breathed Ingrid, peeling away.

"Always a struggle to stop your mouth when you've found a meal you like, eh," said Sylvain, lifting Ingrid up for a moment and reaching off to the side.

Ingrid just glared in response. Sylvain handed over the lubricant and spread his own legs. He groaned as Ingrid pushed two fingers inside.

"So good. Want- you... wanna ride you, like, ah. You're like... my pegasus. I'm gonna- I ride you and you take me high up, and I see stars."

"Aaaurhgh! You're so embarrassing!" Ingrid jammed the fingers in harder, making him squeak with discomfort. "Why do you have to be like this tonight... It's... it's important. It's our wedding."

"Sex doesn't have to stop being funny. The ceremony was downstairs. We're still us, only now you're my partner."

It had only been a few hours ago but Ingrid started to tear up remembering it. The Bishop declared them as _partners._ For so long, the only thing Ingrid had to look forward to was becoming someone's wife. A lifetime, with that as the end goal. But with Sylvain, they had something less charged. And it felt like Ingrid still got to be Ingrid.

His insides were coated to satisfaction, so Ingrid wiped the oil onto Sylvain's stomach. He was dripping with sweat already.

"What did I do to deserve love like yours?" Ingrid asked.

He laughed and answered, "This is the least the universe owes you, dearest."

Braced with one hand on each of his meaty pecs, Ingrid slowly pushed in the head of the cock. Sylvain shivered as it breached. It sunk all the way in, slowly, deliberately. Ingrid switched to leaning on one arm across his chest and running the other hand down Sylvain's side, pressing his belly.

"I'm ready, I can take it, move, Ingrid."

"You idiot, this is for me, not you. Gotta... go _slower..._ " Ingrid pushed up off him to get a better angle on the strap-on, wiggling against it for friction.

"Wow, look at you. So greedy in bed now. Remember when we just started doing this, you hadn't even - _aah!_ \- touched your own clit before? You're welcome."

"You'd never touched one either!" Ingrid said, face heating up further, if that was possible. "You knew what it did but I'm the one who knew where it was!"

"Yeah, 'cause you had to leave room for Sothis between your crotch and the saddle- _ohhh."_

"I'll shut your mouth for you," growled Ingrid, hauling Sylvain's thighs apart and beginning to move in earnest. "Hold your legs back."

"Stroke me?"

"Mmnh." Ingrid moved their bodies closer together. They were flush again, nearly, save for Ingrid's left arm reaching down between them to Sylvain's twitching cock. It was difficult and imprecise to stroke, but there was so much other movement going on, and he was leaking so much, it did enough of the work for them.

Ingrid pushed Sylvain's hair back from his face. Too much sensation made it harder for him to focus and come, but wasn't this as nice? His neck and face were a heavy pink color, hideous against the red of his hair. Sylvain whined, struggling to keep a grip on his own sweat-slicked thighs. He made a pretty sight, too. Perhaps there was something to be said of his fondness for "frames" - the view straight down between Ingrid's breasts of the ridged strap-on going into and out of him was incomparable.

The plateau was as enjoyable as the peak, but since Ingrid got to decide when to end it, about now seemed good enough. Ingrid leaned down to kiss at Sylvain's sternum, which, annoyingly, was the only reachable part of him. Pillar of a man.

"Are you ready to come?"

He nodded, panting.

Ingrid began to stroke faster.

"Good man," said Ingrid.

"You too," said Sylvain, and then he gasped and threw his head back. Two little perfect tears fell from Ingrid's face onto his chest. His hips convulsed, grinding back against the strap-on, and that might have done it for Ingrid too. It was hard to tell, swollen and sore and wet as it all was. Ingrid pulled gently out of Sylvain and worked on undoing the harness as he wiped the white ropes off his stomach with the sheet.

"Come... hah, come here and let me finish you off," he said.

"I'm tired. We'll go again later." Ingrid just lay face down in the perfect pillow of his chest, roses and veils and braids preventing any other position. Sylvain smoothed his partner's fringe back and began to pull out the pins.

"This takes you back, doesn't it?" he said. They were both drifting off.

On another night, when Ingrid lay exhausted on Sylvain's chest like this, he had asked, "Are you crying? What's the ma- what are you thinking about?"

And Ingrid had said, "Is it strange that I'm more sure about you than I am about myself?"

"Well, first of all, flattered, but how so?"

"I don't know, I've just... still not settled into myself yet."

"Is it other people? Do you want more of them to know? I can tell them what to call you so you don't have to do it yourself."

"I'm not bothered about that. Not as much as knowing- myself- whether I can stand, or sometimes enjoy, being called a lady or... something else."

"We can take it day by day," said Sylvain. "Tell me, and I'll change for you. Any time. I remember everything. As long as I have you, it doesn't matter." Impossibly fond.

"I'm inclined to agree," said Ingrid, eyes leaking a little more now. "I know we talked about a ceremony and I... I'd wanted to wait until I'd figured myself out. I only get one, and I want to do it right, you know? Not wish I'd been a different kind of bride or... a groom. But I'll be putting it off forever at this rate... I don't want to waste time getting it perfect or even 'settled' when I could be spending it with you."

Sylvain's body tensed, and as Ingrid looked up, his eyes were wide. A grin was slowly creeping onto his face.

"Why Ingrid," Sylvain said, "did you just propose?"

**Author's Note:**

> please comment i want to Answer Questions with my Facts i am bursting with unincluded facts. mostly they are not facts at all. mostly the only facts i established are which things are Up In The Air.


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